


Mint Chocolate Chip In A Waffle Cone

by RavenInTheImpala (RavenInTheTARDIS)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean's Got you, F/M, Implied Relationships, M/M, Mild Language, Rap music hate, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 14:19:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4749542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenInTheTARDIS/pseuds/RavenInTheImpala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ice cream for Breakfast? Yes, hold the b*tchs. Thanks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mint Chocolate Chip In A Waffle Cone

It was a particularly muggy summers morning after heavy showers from the night before. Instead of loading up on bacon and waffles, you and your recently recovered boyfriend decided to hit up the ice cream parlor as soon as it opened. Dean didn't flinch and said he'd take you when he finished his coffee. Your stomach craved everything and anything from an entire pizza to a handful of cheerios when you were _hungry_. A demand for a double scoop of mint chocolate chip in a waffle cone was not something he was surprised about. 

Before the Impala's tires came to a complete stop, you were already giddy and laughing as you leapt into one of the many deep puddles from the night before. Soaking your dirty hunting jeans and filling your shoes, 

"Geez.. Couldn't you just wai- no, of course not." He reconsiders as he parks her just out of the muddied water. He's staring at your pants as he comes around shoving the keys away. He might not let you back in the car you realize. Smiling, you take his hand and scamper your way to front of the non-existent line tapping your chin at the choices.

"What are you doing now..?" He's voice is becoming weary, your guessing he really hopes you're not going to hug him. Because when Dean isn’t smiling, it _always_ means he wants a hug. So naturally to wrap your arms around his waist. Feeling the flinch that follows, you opt a lighter grip. 

"Thinking of my plan B silly. You'd be surprised how many places are still in business that don't sell mint chocolate chip. It's sad really. I mean how do they live with themselves?" He chuckles and hesitantly wraps his arm around your shoulders holding tight despite the injury. Fleetingly you hope he doesn't push himself on your account.

"Well, lucky for them, looks like they carry it." Remembering the rest of your special order he leans close to your ear to whisper the bad news about the cone when it starts, the drawl in tune with speedy beats. Confused as to what would be ruining your promise of brunchy ice cream you peer around Dean's bulky shoulders. Over by the street corner, swaying with the rhythm is a women. Age and sex need not apply with a singing voice that bad. Certainly not with the words that suddenly pollute the air.

" _Fuck the tight pussy all night, fuck all the bitches, I’ma get me some real deep throooat_.." disgusted you scoff and turn toward the server as he assures you their just about ready. Dean shifts his weight to block the image of her from you in the very least. The rapping grows louder with little to no build up, now she's just screaming. 

"Shut the fuck up.." you say around the Winchesters bicep. 

"Honestly, this is why we should just stick to the classics." Rubbing your back He can feel him start to hum a softer tune, something you've heard him sing by himself. Glancing up at those squinty green eyes you smirk briefly, always the charmer. Sure as thunder her disregard for her own gender increases as she starts becoming more confident and louder. Alas, it's too much and you swiftly turn to the parked car. You're not hungry enough for _this_. 

"Babe! Come... _sigh_ " His longer strides take him to the passenger door faster than you can close it He's about to try and calm you down when your snarl gives him an idea. Grinning he goes to the other side and slides in keys in the ignition lighting fast. 

"Ok, I got you. Doooon't even worry." He mumbles to himself as the inner beast in Baby turns over. Shifting gears he throws his arm over the back still grinning like a mad man. You regard him like he's the crazy one who wanted ice cream for breakfast. 

"Dean - Whoa!" The car rips down the street backwards, luckily no ones around to get in its way. 

"Dean what are you doing!" His grin fades mostly save for the sparkle in his eye. Sliding the gears into drive, he stops. Sliding an arm across your torso, he grasps the seat belt and very smoothly, clicks it into place. 

"Hold on to something." he says with gravel in his voice that hadn't been there before. Following his gaze now fear sinks your stomach to the floor. 

"You can't _hit_ her Hun! Think of Baby for a minute here, you'll hurt her too!" Slowly you watch his fingers slide from the wheel, like idea just dawned on him. 

"...I... I'll rebuild her again." Gasping you dig your nails into the dash like that will stop the spinning of the tires on asphalt as they destroy the distance. Just before the inevitable crash you were dreading, instead of the smashing of glass, you hear a long _ripping_. Too freaked out to open your eyes you remain still, your only shaken to confidence by the man's laughter beside you as he howls. 

"Take that, yea bitch! Ha!" Spinning around you watch with great satisfaction as she gasps like a fish out of water. Her sopping wet face eclipsed by her swept over locks, she’s soaked. You fill the car with your laughter and embrace the sweet man beside you. 

"Oh, Honey Boo Boo! You are _maaarvelous_!!" Smirking he shrugs despite his ribs. He’s knows he did good.

"I know a better place closer to home anyway, they'll have what you want." Awash with happiness again you pump a fist as the Impala makes tracks for that waffle cone.


End file.
